Felt Like a Century
by Jello Ink
Summary: Ron's been ignoring Hermione's existence since she rejected him in Hogwarts. When she's attacked by a Death Eater, can they stand each other long enough to catch him? (R/Hr total role reversal)


Author's Mad Ramblings: Okay, I've tried time and time again to rephrase my A/N, and every time it sounds more idiotic. So I'm not even going to try. Read this chapter and review, if you please ^_^. By the way, I don't own Harry Potter, J.K.R. and various publishing and production companies do. So don't sue, I have thirty cents in the bank. You can have my brothers instead. J 

Felt Like a Century 

"Mione?" 

Hermione Granger looked up from her book for a few seconds before closing its cover. She was reading _Hogwarts: A History_ for what seemed like the four hundredth time, trying to rid herself of the sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the last day of the school year at Hogwarts, where she, Harry and Ron were seventh years. This time, there would be no happy return on the first of September. Only an owl when they remembered to write one another, and maybe a visit here and there. She knew what happened to even the closest friends when they didn't see each other constantly.

"Yes Ron?" She smiled up at one of her best friends for seven long years, and met a pair of unsure blue eyes. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, a phenomena which had developed only now.

"I…can we talk…in private? For a second?" His voice was sheepish and Hermione found herself wondering what in God's name could have made Ron sound that way. He was hardly ever quiet, nonetheless shy or anything but direct with her. 

"Sure, come into the common room with me. All the other seventh years have gone ahead to the picnic in Hogsmeade, I was just about to go myself." She led Ron into the Gryffindor common room, sitting down beside him on a plush red sofa. "So what's on your mind?" 

"Well, Hermione, remember in fourth year when I realized you were a girl?"

"Ron…" Her voice began to take on an irritated edge, and Ron backed up a bit.

"Wait, no, I'm going somewhere with this. You remember right?" Hermione sighed and leaned back into the couch.

"Yes, I do."

"Well…I actually I um…obviously I always knew you were a girl, but I didn't think of you outside of one of my best friends, you know? And then in fourth year I sort of…got a crush on you." Hermione smiled. 

"I know." Ron looked faintly surprised. 

"You did?"

"You _did_ rip off poor Viktor's arm. Harry told me about that. Thought it was extremely funny, I gather." His ears flushed red as Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"He was bad news! I didn't like you going around with somebody like that, Mione!" She sat straight up in her chair, indignant as always when Viktor was mentioned.

"He liked me!"

"So did I!"

They were silent for a few moments before Ron started up again. He had a pensive look on his face, and was thinking out his words very carefully. 

"_Anyway_ excluding all mention of Vicky, my crush on you got bigger…a lot bigger." Hermone gaped at him.

"But you said not to worry. You said we were only friends."

"I lied. Mione, I didn't want to give you the chance to tell me the exact same thing." He shook his head. "I should have, I'm a bloody prat. And I…I don't have a crush on you anymore." Hermione felt a strange twinge of disappointment, accompanied by confusion.

"But then why did you want to talk to me?"

"Because what I feel for you is too big to be called a crush anymore. Mione, I…well, I love you." 

For a few seconds Hermione was silent. She stared at Ron with a guarded gaze, hesitant to say anything. 

_'We'd fight all the time. I'd cry every day. Is that what I want? How much worse would the hurt be if I let myself love him like that? I can't. Dammit Ron, stop looking at me with that hopeful face…Can I do what I'm about to do to him?'_

"Can I do it to myself?" She whispered. Ron didn't hear her, and continued to wait for her answer. She cleared her throat and spoke after a long moment. "Um…wow…Ron, I…I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She fingered a strand of her shiny, curly brown hair. Now that she was older, she'd become just a little jaded by Parvati and Lavender's vanity. A permanent spell had smoothed her hair into a more manageable state. She no longer had to wrestle with tangles in the morning, the spell took away none of her hair's natural curl, only tamed the frizz that knotted itself together. For once she felt a little less self conscious, she felt pretty. She knew she'd always had the same face, but the new hairstyle flattered her features. There was no longer any giant bushy hair to draw attention away from her face.

"I think…um…okay. Ron. I think that we would be better off as friends. I'm sorry that I have to hurt your feelings but I think it's for the best." Even to herself, the answer sounded rehearsed. And it was, to an extent. She'd heard Parvati reading it aloud in a question and answer column in Witch Weekly, in response to a girl who didn't feel the same way as her friend. Immediately Ron's face darkened, and he flushed red from barely suppressed anger. 

"Hermione…" 

"Ron…" She said in the same tone of voice. 

"Why can't you be honest with me? We've been circling around this for at _least _the past year _if_ not more, and yet you still deny giving a damn about me!" With every word, Ron's voice rose an octave.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I wasn't the only jealous one! Remember when I tried to go out with Padma in sixth year? Who was glaring then?" 

"I just didn't like her!" Replied Hermione, sticking her nose in the air. "I never harbor petty jealousies!"

"Liked her fine until I kissed her didn't you?!" 

"How dare you accuse me of being jealous, Ronald Weasley!"

"How dare you deny that you love me, even a little, Hermione Granger!" 

They glared at each other for a moment before Ron grabbed her, pulling her into a kiss. A shiver ran down her spine as she subconsciously twined her arms around his neck. When he pulled back from her, he spoke in a low voice.

"Deny it now. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me." Trembling, she looked him straight in the eye and prepared herself to say no, she didn't, now let's pretend nothing happened. Brown met blue and with a sigh she realized she couldn't, not with him looking at her like that. When she did finally manage to choke out a response, it was neither positive nor negative. 

"I'm sorry." She gasped, breaking away from his embrace and running to the door, where she paused a moment. "Forget the picnic. I'm going to go home. I…I'll owl you sometime." With that, she raced down the hall and out the door of Hogwarts, leaving Ron completely alone. 

~***~ 

Hermione Granger,  Assistant Mistress of Magic, sat down at her dinner table late one Friday evening with every intention of having a perfectly normal meal in her perfectly normal life. As usual, she filled a pretty wine glass with pumpkin juice and picked up her fork to dig into the steak she had prepared herself. She was just about to tuck in when the doorbell rang, as they tend to do when you've just begun to partake of dinner. 

"Urgh…" She got up and opened the door quickly, ready to tear into any solicitor that dared disturb her meal. Instead she saw a quite bedraggled Harry Potter, glasses askew and messy hair more unruly than ever. "Harry! What on earth happened to you? Come in, come in!" Grabbing Harry's arm, she hauled him into the safety of her apartment. 

"Oy, Hermione, watch the arm." He took his arm gently back from her grip and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a long gash from his elbow to his index finger. Hermione gasped inadvertently and glanced down at her hand to find it smeared with Harry's blood. Firmly she shook herself out of her dreamlike state and ushered Harry into an armchair near her fireplace. She dug her wand out of a drawer in an end table and kneeled before the chair, head bent over his wound. 

"My God, Harry." She breathed, muttering a spell that closed the cut, and trying unsuccessfully to banish the mark altogether. "It's deep," she observed with a grimace, "It'll most likely leave a scar. Don't you think you should lie down? You should lie down. Here." She threw a pillow on the couch and practically tossed Harry onto it, much to his amusement. 

"Hermione, really, I'm fine." He said, a smile playing across his face. "You know, despite the obvious blood loss…" Hermione was not amused. 

"Harry James Potter, you're going to tell me what happened right now! Why didn't you fix this yourself? They taught us healing spells in sixth year!" 

"Wand arm." Harry said, making a swishing motion with the injured appendage. "And as for what happened, I'm getting to that…"

"I'm waiting."

"Don't interrupt." He said with a teasing grin. "Well I was in this secret Death Eater place. Disgusting living environment those people have, dungeons with moss on the walls and a smell that's enough to make you hurl." 

"Harry…" 

"Hang on. So anyway, being the smart git I am I walk right into the most secret room of all. I must say it took me about a half hour to disarm the door in the first place and the inside was a bloody disappointment for all the effort. Only person in there was Lucius-bloody-Malfoy, plastered to the wall behind the door. With a _sword_. Let me ask you, Hermione, what kind of sick bastard waits in a secret lair to cut his enemy to shreds with a two foot shard of sharp steel? He got one good swipe in too, that would be the cut, on my wand arm. So, that having been rendered useless, I ran like I've never run before to the exit. I think it's time I started forming a rough plan before I wander into places like that." He winced as he hauled himself into a sitting position. Hermione looked shell-shocked. 

"Harry Potter, I don't believe you!" 

"I know, I'm stupid not to have…"

"No, I mean I really don't believe you. What actually happened?" 

"Mugged by a guy with a knife. Now I'm out three Galleons."

"Well why didn't you just _say_ that? Honestly, I'll never understand you and R…" He didn't seem to notice her choke on the word. 

"Ah, but the first one made me look like less of a prat. Being taken down by a Death Eater holds much more dignity that being cut up by a thug in a ski mask." 

"Your story was a bit weak." Harry shrugged.

"I suppose you could have done better on the spot."

"Oh, yes." She imitated a man's baritone. "I was ordered to a top secret Auror mission at the last minute before I went to sleep. I rushed to the scene, completely forgetting my wand, which I had left on the table at home. When I burst through the door of the Death Eaters' hideout, there was Lucius Malfoy, wand aimed at my forehead. I dived for the ground, just as the _Crucio_ curse would have hit me." She huddled near the floor, mimicking a wary stance. "Leaping up, I snatched his wand, screaming the _Suadious_ charm. A sword appeared in my hand, my _left_ hand. Lucius made a sudden break for the door, knocking my arm to the side and making a long cut as it bent awkwardly, driving the blade along my wand arm. But, even using my left hand, I backed him into the wall with a myriad of dazzling swordplay." As Harry shook with laughter, Hermione leaped to her feet and brandished an imaginary sword with a few deft wrist movements. "But, alas! He had picked up his wand while I was distracted by the pain of the cut! With a pop, the villian disappeared, leaving me with no choice but to exercise my heroism by saving a few orphans from certain death at the hands of a madman outside your flat, Hermione. Hence, I dropped in for a chat and a healing spell or two." 

"B-b-bravo!" Harry choked out, doubled over and laughing heartily at this portrayal of himself. When he straightened he addressed his lack of creativity. "I guess I could have done better…"

"Much." Hermione said, flopping down beside the sofa and blushing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke about things like that."

"Forget it, I haven't seen a performance that interesting since Ron coughed up slugs for a day." She blanched slightly at the mention of her former best friend.

"How is Ron?" She asked tentatively.

"Oh, he's great. Just made Head Auror last month. He beat me out! He deserves it though." He said with a small smile. "He's quick with his head, makes decisions in a half second. Must be all that chess."

Hermione was unable to keep the spacey smile off her face at this report. 

"But I'm sure he told you in his letters, eh, Hermione?" He asked gently, seemingly aware of their lack of communication. She looked down, studying the pattern on her carpet.

"We…" She paused. "We don't write any longer." She didn't mention that she'd written him every week for three months and gotten such forcibly stilted responses she'd given up all together. He hadn't written her of his own initiative since. Three years later, she still sighed with disappointment every time the post came with no letter from Ron. 

Harry didn't push the issue. 

"How'd you come to be in the neighborhood, Harry?" She asked with false cheer, a bright smile painted on her face.

"Oh! I was bringing this to you." From his jacket he pulled a thin brown envelope, marked with a sparkly S.W.A.K sticker. To Hermione's questioning look he responded, "Ginny's mad at me," he said sheepishly, standing up. "She said I'd better deliver this on foot while the owl rested. I'd have Apparated but she'd find out somehow and then I'd really catch it." He winced. "Hell hath no fury like an angry Ginny."

Hermione laughed and took the envelope, placing it on the table for her perusal later. "Speaking of Ginny, I'd better tell her that her boyfriend is injured and in need of her care." She winked at Harry, throwing some fine white powder in the fireplace and sticking her head in it, yelling for 'The Cannon'. Harry couldn't hear what she said, but moments later a distraught Ginny appeared in the living room. 

"Harry!" She cried, throwing her arms around him as though she'd never let go. "Oh, I should never have made you go! This is all my fault! Come on love, we'll get you home and I'll make you cookies or something! I'm so glad you're alright!"

"Well," said Harry with an injured look, "I'm not entirely alright." He held up his arm with the sleeve rolled up to show her the long scar, faded already to a very light pink. 

"Harry!" She exclaimed again, grabbing his undamaged hand. "We're going home right now! I can't believe I let you deliver that stupid letter this late at night! It's a wonder you're alive! Hermione gave me such a fright!"

Harry directed his eyes at the floor while Hermione tried not to laugh at his martyred expression. "Aw, Gin, you know I'd crawl over hot coals for you."

"Oh…" Ginny trailed off as their faces closed the distance between them. Hermione coughed, and the lovers looked up, startled. "We have to go." Ginny repeated. 

Before they Apparated, Hermione caught the grin Harry flashed her over Ginny's shoulder, changing to perfect solemnity as Ginny turned her gaze to his face. They disappeared with a pop just as Hermione started to laugh.

Seconds later, a small, twittering white owl flew clumsily through the window, bumped into a wall and landed on the sofa. It gave a tiny hoot and started fluttering from one end of the couch to the other. 

"Pig?" said Hermione to herself, restraining the tiny owl and gently pulling a rolled up piece of parchment from his leg. She tossed him an Owl Treat™, and sat down in her armchair, eager to read the contents. A smile grew on her face as she skimmed the words.

Hermione- 

_Mum's having an Easter celebration this year. She wants you to come. It's April the tenth starting at three o'clock. She says you can stay over if it gets late. But you can just Apparate, right? I keep telling her that but_

Ron Weasley 

She frowned slightly at the forced formality she'd become familiar with in the three months she'd received letters from him. The smile grew again however, when she remembered she'd be able to see him in the flesh in three days. Hermione couldn't help but dream they might salvage their friendship yet. It still killed her to know that he hated her. Or, if he didn't hate her, that he no longer felt her worthy of his friendship.

Hurriedly she scribbled out a response which she tied to Pig's leg.

_Ron-_

_I'd love to come. Thank your mother for inviting me. I'll see you there._

_Sincerely,_

_    Hermione_

While warmer than his correspondence, it still remained properly aloof. If Ron wanted to pretend they were strangers, so be it. She didn't even notice when a tear left a warm trail down her cheek and splattered on the parchment, blurring the first three letters of her name.

~Three days later, April 10th~

Hermione stared nervously at the The Burrow's front entrance. She'd Apparated moments earlier, at precisely two forty-five pm, and for ten minutes she'd been standing in the same spot, watching the door. It occurred to her that eventually she'd have to move in the general direction of the Weasley's living room, but she felt it was something that could be put off. 

With trepidation she took one, then two steps towards the foreboding entrance. Three, four steps. She stopped again, breathing hard. She didn't know how she could face him after the letters, after her rejection of him, after their failed friendship. 

Fortunately, a saving grace prevented her from thinking too hard on that subject. Ginny and Harry appeared a few feet to her right.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Ginny. Hermione wondered idly if being in love always caused normal women to dissolve into speaking in exclamation marks. "It's great to have you at The Burrow again. This time we're all together." She continued warmly, making Hermione feel badly for her previous train of thought.

"Well, I know I didn't come last Christmas, but I've been the two before that and for a while on my vacation…" Hermione said, not fully comprehending Ginny's meaning. 

"But this time we're _all_ here. Bill and Charlie came, and of course the twins, and Percy and…" she paused significantly, "Ron. He's never been here when you came to visit before." Hermione winced, knowing that he'd deliberately avoided The Burrow whenever she'd showed signs of appearing there.

Harry gave her an apologetic look for Ginny. She didn't know what had happened between Hermione and Ron three years ago. Come to think of it neither did Harry, although he probably had a good idea. Hermione tried to smile at her but just ended up looking miserable. 

"Oh, Hermione." She sighed, and drew the older girl into a hug, needing no explanation. Ginny seemed to know instinctively that whatever had transpired between Ron and Hermione in years past, they hadn't spoken in a long time. "There, I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk without knowing what I'm talking _about_, and I do it all too often. Forgive me?" 

"It's alright, Gin. I'm fine, really." She gave her a sad smile and all three approached the house together. The door was thrown open by Molly Weasley, round and frizzy haired with glowing cheeks.

"Ginny, dear! Harry, Hermione! I'm so glad you could come. We're having turkey and afterwards the littler ones are going to hunt for eggs…" Hermione's thoughts took over at this point and she walked in a daze to the center of the living room, where Molly led them. "Sit down, sit down, I've got the turkey to take care of. Fred, George, get your hands out of that stuffing! NOW!" 

Faint twin voices came from the kitchen as Molly rushed in. "Aw Mum, just a bit? Ow! Quit that Mum!"

Still fairly dreamy, Hermione sunk onto a sofa beside Harry, who had his arm around Ginny's waist. Her eyes drifted to a corner of the stairwell, where a figure cast in shadow leaned against the wall. He stepped slowly into the light, revealing short red hair, blue eyes, and a rather gloomy expression. 

"Ron," said Hermione, so softly she was sure no one had heard her. Ginny and Harry were still wrapped up in themselves. 

"That's me." He replied with a ghost of a smile. A strange flicker leaped into his eyes, then died like a waning ember. Hermione realized she couldn't name the emotion in the flicker if she tried. He was obviously making an effort to withhold his feelings.

Ginny glanced up, saw her brother framed in the light from the window, and excused herself and Harry to the kitchen. She ignored Harry's protests and dragged him behind her.

Hermione rose and walked over to Ron, mesmerized by the shock of seeing him again. Her hand rose of it's own volition, as if to touch him and make sure he was really there. She caught herself in time and lowered the offending arm to her side, contenting herself with staring up at him in ill-disguised wonder. Ron watched her with a detached smirk of amusement at her changing emotions. 

Suddenly she was hit with the full force of anger repressed for three years. How _dare_ he sit there and smirk at her when he'd abandoned her without so much as goodbye. _She'd_ been the one trying to save their friendship and he had thrown it to the dogs. And now he dared to _mock_ her with his blank face and uncaring air. 

"Hermione?" he said, truthfully a little concerned for her state of mind, although there was laughter in his voice. He could practically see her thought process and it took all he had not to grab her and pull her into his arms, where she belonged. 

"Malfoy," she spat sarcastically. "Fancy seeing you here." She turned to stomp off, but Ron caught her arm and spun her around, ignoring the fire that tingled its way up his hand. He glared at her.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You look just like him you know. Standing there smirking like you haven't a care in the world. You probably don't, do you?" She accused, stabbing his chest with index finger. "How dare you do that to me, Ron Weasley! Do you have any idea, any idea at all how much it hurts to be studiously avoided by one of your best friends for three _years_?"

For once in his life, Ron was at a loss for words. He looked down at her nervously, and she jerked her arm out of his grasp roughly. 

"I _missed_ you! I can't imagine why, now, but I did! And you can only stand there with the stupid expression on your face thinking 'Silly Hermione, we should never have been friends in the first place. What was I thinking?' while I'm just happy to be in your godforsaken _presence_." Hermione's voice rose until she was practically shrieking at him. The whole house was hushed, listening to the exchange with barely concealed interest. "I don't know why I came back here just to see you. Obviously this is a friendship that's well over!" She went around him and started up the stairs to Ginny's room, determined to see him as little as possible.

Ron reached for her with a shocked look on his face. "Hermione…" But she pushed him into the wall with considerable force and stalked up the wooden stairs, hands clenched. 

"Don't. Just don't." 

The twins emerged from the kitchens and put an arm each around Ron, clucking their tongues at him reproachfully.

"Ron, Ron…" said Fred.

"What'll we do with you?" said George.

"Well, dear brother, it's time we taught him about the birds and the bees."

"And how not to piss off his one true love."

"That too. So Ron, you see, there's these people called girls and…" Fred's tangent was interrupted by a clunking noise upstairs. Ron cocked his ear and heard what most wizarding folk spent their entire lives dreading. 

A deep, grating voice called '_Crucio!_' and what followed was the most inhuman shriek of pain that Ron had ever heard. A rolling, maniacal laughter washed over him as he raced up the stairs.

End Chapter 1 

So…what'd ya think? Use that purpley button at the bottom people, and make me a happy little author! I don't know whether or not to continue this, I'm not good at judging the quality of my own work…so please let me know what you thought? I'll give you a cookie! You know you want to!


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